


The Male Prostitute in the Club With His (Word Redacted Due to Content)

by geneeste



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), Hung TV Series
Genre: Crack, Crack Fic, Crossover, F/M, Gen, Humor, Jason from Hung - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-25
Updated: 2015-02-25
Packaged: 2018-03-15 00:48:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3431885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geneeste/pseuds/geneeste
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She looks back at Oliver, and really has to appreciate how his face goes from confusion to gaping disbelief to a kind of purpley-red rage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Male Prostitute in the Club With His (Word Redacted Due to Content)

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Finest Architecture](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1234084) by [andymcnope](https://archiveofourown.org/users/andymcnope/pseuds/andymcnope). 



> This story was inspired by Finest Architecture by [andymcnope](http://archiveofourown.org/users/andymcnope/pseuds/andymcnope) and the ensuing comments, so [andymcnope](http://archiveofourown.org/users/andymcnope/pseuds/andymcnope) gets half the credit and at least 3/4 of the praise. You really should read it (and maybe before this one) because it's great (also super smutty. And great). In that vein, this is a sort of crossover fic with the TV show Hung, in which Stephen Amell played the character of Jason (which I've never seen. So really this is a fic of andymcnope's fic). Also, inspired by a good bottle of wine. Unbetad, so all mistakes are mine. I'm so sorry that my first story in this fandom is crack fic. (Except not really.)

Felicity descends the stairwell in…well, in bemused shock. Extreme befuddlement. The kind of confusion that leaves your mouth hanging open while also making your skin crawl. That sort of thing.

Sara glances up briefly from her low-key sparing with Oliver, processes her expression, then immediately drops her hands and gives Felicity her full attention. Felicity figures Sara’s probably wondering why she’s back when she just left half an hour ago, and also why her face is doing that ‘does not compute’ thing.

“Are you okay?” Sara asks, in that careful way she has.

Felicity has reached the floor by then, and is still working to close her mouth. “Um.”

She can tell Oliver is getting really concerned by the way he slides up to her, sneaking his hand up her arm, and damn it, now Diggle is walking back toward her from the sparring dummy.

Well. Might as well get it over with. She focuses on Oliver. “Okay, uh, I-I’m going to tell you this and then I’m going to let you deal with it because frankly…freaking out.” She realizes her hands are waving wildly toward her body at that last bit and forces them back to their respective sides.

“Felicity,” Oliver says, in that grounding way that _he_ has. 

She clears her throat. “There is a….male prostitute upstairs in the club,” and she has to stop and pace herself and take in the various expressions from them at that, “…who says that he was hired to sleep with me so that his employer could take pictures of us that they would then use to blackmail me into doing black hat work for them.”

That last bit comes out in a rush and then there’s silence. That is, until Diggle. “Holy shit.”

“Right?” She asks him, a little desperately.

She looks back at Oliver, and really has to appreciate how his face goes from confusion to gaping disbelief to a kind of purpley-red rage. Without a word, he turns and starts running up the stairs with Sara behind.

“Wait!” she yells (loud voice, loud voice), and to their credit they immediately do. “There are three things you should know. First, his name is Jason and he is really dumb. Like seriously. It’s troubling. Two, and I can’t believe I’m actually saying this, he’s actually kind of sweet and he did warn me, so. And third.”

This is the hard part. “The third thing. Is, well.” She takes a deep breath. “He looks exactly like you. Oliver. Like you. _Exactly_ like you.”

\-----

Not long later, they’re all back downstairs. Oliver and Jason. Together.

There had to have been some discussion about the prudence of bringing Jason down here that Felicity wasn’t privy to, but it doesn’t seem as though Jason is connecting the dots. Despite being surrounded by loads of lethal equipment and a suspiciously green-costumed dummy.

Mostly she can’t get over Oliver and Jason. Together. Jason and Oliver together. Because, by god, the resemblance is uncanny. Looking at Sara and Diggle just off to her right, heads tilted slightly sideways as their eyes dart back and forth between the two men, she can see she’s not alone in that opinion.

Jason is just standing there looking totally psyched to be meeting new people, and Felicity kind of wants to be swallowed up by the earth so that she doesn’t have see that happy puppy look on the face of a guy who was basically going to try to take advantage of her but whom she seems to feel sorry for. She doesn’t want to deal with it.

At _all_.

As for Oliver, he’s facing off his doppelganger from across the room, with his arms crossed and glaring for the greatest intimidation effect. Mostly he just looks nonplussed and angry. Not necessarily in that order.

Diggle speaks up first, bless him. “Would you mind telling us just what exactly it is you think you’re doing here?” His voice is low and slow, and would sound friendly to someone who wouldn’t know better, but Felicity _so_ knows better.

Jason seems to have no idea of the danger he’s in. “I’m here for Felicity,” he says. Smiling.

“Oh god,” she whispers to herself.

Oliver’s face goes even darker, as if that is even possible. “For what? To do what?,” he’s slowly advancing on Jason, who still doesn’t appear to be clued in to the situation. “To manipulate her? To hurt her?”

Jason’s face falls immediately. There it is, she thinks. Finally. “Whoa, hey,” he holds his palms up as if trying to calm everyone down. “I don’t want to hurt anybody, especially a woman. My job is to make women happy.”

He turns to Felicity and gives her a ridiculously earnest look. “I would have made you happy.” 

She brings one hand up to her face to hold her head up in response, because that’s obviously a loaded statement and just too much. She knows her eyes are wide (and god, her mouth is open again), but she can’t help it. The situation is just too bizarre for words.

Meanwhile, Diggle moves in front of Jason’s line of sight to her. “Okay,” he says, jovially, but Felicity knows that’s a precursor to some serious violence and she’s got to get a handle on this before that happens.

“John, don’t.” Then she waves awkwardly to Jason. “Why don’t you just…come sit over here for a minute.”

Diggle turns around and zeros in on her as if to say _are you nuts?_ , and Oliver hisses out her name. She gives them both a quelling look, and gestures again to the chair in front of her. In the background Sara is circling Jason and Felicity waves her off too.

Mercifully, Jason seems all too game to come talk to her and he moves to sit down.

“Okay,” she breathes. “Do you know the name of the person who hired you?”

He shakes is head. “No. He sent me emails and paid me beforehand, so no.”

She’s got both hands fisted, thumbnails against her lips to occupy them, and she moves her fists toward him as she speaks. “And that didn’t seem, I don’t know, weird to you?”

Again, Jason gives an absent headshake, dumb smile back in place. “No. You know, sometimes I get calls from guys who want to give their girlfriends or wives a good time? So they call me.”

She’s making a face at him, she knows she is, though there’s no sign from Jason that he sees it. But she is painfully aware that everyone else is watching. “But they told you what they wanted you to come here for, right? Why they wanted you to come…make me happy?” Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Oliver clench his hands as though he’s getting ready for a fight, and an urgency to get this done falls on her brain. “So you must have something, an address from them, or an account number from their bank?”

“Oh yeah,” he nods enthusiastically. “He sent me a some of that information for my account.” He pauses, searches his pockets, and comes up with a slip of paper that he hands her.

Then, for a moment, he looks a bit sad. “I guess I’m going to have to give the money back now, since we didn’t get to”-

“Yes!” she says quickly, cutting him off before he can finish that sentence and seal his fate. “Yeah, probably.”

And then no one’s talking, everyone’s standing around watching the two of them awkwardly. 

Felicity is at a loss, unsure of how to end this endlessly long moment of Jason staring at her blankly, until Sara suddenly appears behind him. Neat trick. “You need to go,” Sara says down at him.

Felicity is relieved, so relieved that he will leave but not with arrows through his person (not that she cares, he’s just so pathetic), but Jason looks incredibly disappointed. “Okay.”

He gets up, and Felicity is fixated on them as Sara walks him up the stairs and out. As they go through the door she hears Jason ask Sara, “hey, what are you doing later?” and then a loud thump.

She’s dropped her head in her hands for a few seconds when she hears Oliver speak in a mild tone. “Why don’t I take you home?”

That is a fantastic idea, she thinks.


End file.
